


Capri and a cottage in the French countryside

by MatildaSwan



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-19
Updated: 2011-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-27 13:40:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/296450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MatildaSwan/pseuds/MatildaSwan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>One’s beginning was the other’s middle; the other’s beginning the end. Forget timey-whimy, star and space crossed lovers; these two just had terrible timing.</i></p><p>Spoilers for Tempus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Capri and a cottage in the French countryside

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Oparu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oparu/gifts).



> Written for the Sanctuary_Santa 2011 fic exchange for Oparu; I hope you like it sweetie!
> 
> References to The Time of Angels/Flesh and Stone, Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead (DW) and general knowledge of Sanctuary including end of season three/beginning of four.
> 
> Beta-ed by the lovely Lisa :)

_One’s beginning was the other’s middle; the other’s beginning the end. Forget timey-whimy, star and space crossed lovers; these two just had terrible timing._

They caught glimpses of one another long before they knew who the other was or who they would become. A glimpse of giant curly blond hair back at Oxford; someone Helen assumed was the wife of one of the lectures. A cascade of blond curls at the funeral of Nikola Tesla and a bob of red hair in the background as Churchill announced the war was over; at the time, River assumed familial resemblance rather than the same person. The same blond curls, backstage in the corner of her eye, as Helen entered Gorge’s dressing room. A name River recognised on a death notice in a timeline that never came to be; she later found out the same person was the cause of the plague that never happened.

That was the curse of a time traveller; never in the right place at the perfect time.

 

 _Helen met her for the first time in Capri._

Helen opened her eyes and cursed the last glass of wine she had drunk the night before. Flashes of various types of shots being poured by obviously smittened bartenders, a conversation with a particularly interesting group of fishermen and an extremely _intense_ game of pool against an attractive ginger-that-wasn’t-quite-ginger passed through her memory in bits and pieces. She grunted as she rolled onto her back, retract that last thought. _Damn the last_ bottle _of wine I had; I certainly didn’t_ need _it. And the shots too, I don’t think I needed them either._

Helen sighed as she swung her legs off the bed and misjudged the distance to the floor, her feet landing a little too heavily on the ground for her liking. _You’d think someone who’s been alive as long as I have would know better than this,_ she mental scolded herself. Her muscles were achy; her limbs were heavy and her stomach far more solid than it should have been and extremely uncomfortable. Her eyes burned and her mouth tasted like a mixture of cotton, smoke and something left over from the night before that she couldn’t remember and wasn’t entirely certain she ever wanted to. She was still cursing whoever invented alcohol and wondering why there wasn’t a God of Hangovers she could pray to as she heaved herself up and towards the bathroom. It wasn’t until she walked past the full length mirror on the back of the door that she realised the negligee she was wearing was ripped at the hem and one of the straps simply didn’t exist anymore. Her right shoulder was also sporting a particularly well formed tooth patterned bruise. And she was _sore._

She stripped and turned on the hot water, letting the steam fill the room for a moment before adjusting the cold and stepping in. She sighed as the water ran over her face, drenching her hair and calming the herd of elephants that appeared to be dancing the conga inside her skull. Helen soaped herself, finding various seemingly sex related injuries; finger shaped bruises starting to show on her hips, another bite mark on her thigh and scratches down her back.

Tiny flashes of the woman at the bar flicked behind her eyes as she rested her forehead against the glass shower door. She had the feeling she’d met the woman before, but couldn’t place her face. And the woman had certainly acted like she knew Helen, or maybe she had just been that confident. What was her name? It was interesting, Helen remembered that much. _Rachel, Raven? No, neither of them._ She continued to rack her brain to no avail while the hot water coursed over her back, sweet relief to her aching muscles.

Twenty minutes later, Helen stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a fluffy white towel, still confused and craving grease. She walked over to her wardrobe, and passed her dresser. An envelope addressed to her and sealed with a kiss rested against the vase of flowers she’s picked yesterday. She shuffled the towel into one hand and ripped open the envelope open and pulled out a note.

 _Hello, Sweetie,_

 _It was lovely to see you again, although strange to know this was our first time for you. Yes, that is a confusing statement, but it will make sense in time. I’m sure we’ll see each other soon; a lecture in Paris, if I’m not mistaken. Keep this note, don’t lose it; this is how we keep track. Again, everything will make sense in time._

 _xx, River_

 _River! That was it,_ Helen sighed, exhaling a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. _And I was right; this woman_ did _know who I was. She talks as if she knows the future, and she seems certain we’ll see each other again; well, that’s good enough for me._ Putting the note back in the envelope, Helen moaned as another wave of her hangover hit her. She threw on a shapeless dress lying on the back of a chair and wandered towards the kitchen; she needed food and more sleep. She could worry about the not-quite-ginger temptress later; the real world was calling her back the day after tomorrow.

Besides, whatever happens in Capri stays in Capri.

 

 _Second from the beginning; repairing lost memories and making new ones._

She was in the crowd as Helen gave a presentation on the breeding habits of the spotted Hazibid and its impact on other species that inhabited the Congo. Helen only noticed the head of curls halfway through, as if River had just appeared in a previously empty seat. Helen stumbled on her sentence when she caught River’s eyes; an unspoken agreement to meet afterwards is sealed by River’s curt nod. Helen returned River’s smirk as she caught up to her slides.

They left as soon as Helen had fended off as many questions as she could and rubbed shoulders enough to politely vacate the building. They stopped at the first café they passed and ordered; tea of course, never coffee. River pulled up a bundle of envelops and put them on the table; all sealed with a kiss. Helen contributed her single envelope to the pile and caught River’s expression in the corner of her eye.

“Only once?” River hadn’t been kidding; it was how they kept score.

“Yes, and I don’t remember it,” their order came and interrupted River’s shocked expression.

“Oh, Sweetie! That’s terrible; we can’t have that now, can we?” her hand found Helen’s knee and her tone sent a shiver down Helen’s spine.

“I suppose you’ll just have to fill in the blanks for me then,” Helen wasn’t used to this, but if she was completely honest with herself, she was _loving_ it.

River’s eyes sparkled as she picked up the pile of notes and Helen’s hands. It was only much, much later that they realised they left without paying.

 

 _Helen didn’t really understand the complexity of time travel until the middle._

River’s visits were always sporadic; never planned, expected or in order, but almost always welcome. Well, there was that one less than brilliant time when River appeared in Helen’s bedroom to find her in a rather compromising position. Helen had been _entertaining_ the extremely pretty guide she’d employed on her last mission, but as soon as introductions were made and the awkward questions were answered it ended up being a rather fulfilling night for all involved.

River constantly sported that head of mad curls, and Helen found herself developing nothing short of a fetish for curls of any colour. River’s hair changed, unknown to Helen for the longest time, as an indicator of River’s time stream. Blonde one visit, ginger-ish the next; there was even a brunette wig thrown in there occasionally, Helen always had _fun_ with that.

A week in Mexico; drinks by the pool while James watched Henry and Ashley. A business turned pleasure trip to the London Sanctuary, a picnic in her Sanctuary’s garden. Countless nights spent mapping each other’s bodies in the privacy of Helen’s bedroom. River even crashed Helen’s next trip to Capri after they both decided to relive their first encounter so Helen could remember all the details.

They were old and wise; they used every moment of their time together.

 _Brunette and disguised._

River gate crashed Ashley’s first real mission. Not that anyone would know, with the guise she adopted. When ever Ashley gushed about the tracker that looked like Adrian Brodie she just smiled and nodded. In truth, she couldn’t remember anyone except Sam; the Tracker River disguised herself as.

They both loved a bit of role play here and there.

 _Blond and fierce._

Helen caught a glimpse of curls on the way to Scotland, her first mission with Will. The woman disappeared before Helen had a chance to call out. Helen forgot about it until River appeared in Helen’s room the night after the Morrigan left with the Cabal.

Helen asked her later, if it had been her. River answered as she collected her clothes from various areas around the room.

“What? Oh, yes, I think it was. Sorry I couldn’t say hello, I had an urgent matter to attend to,” she leant down to kiss Helen. “One I don’t think was fully resolved, so I have to go. But I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

The air made a popping sound and River disappeared, leaving Helen to imagine what the problem was and when River would make good on that promise.

 _Ginger and heartfelt._

River was waiting in Helen’s bedroom after Ashley’s funeral. She held Helen as she cried; the death of her oldest friend finally catching up to her as the loss of her daughter destroyed her. No words were shared, only comfort and kisses. River spent and night wrapped around the brunette and Helen finally fell into the first proper sleep she’d had in months.

 _Young and Heartbroken._

The night after they put River back in Stormcage after the Maze of the Dead, Helen found River in her room, a shaking, sobbing mess

“He barely knew who I was,” she hardly managed to choke out through the sobs. “He didn’t trust me. Th-that man is going to kill me one day, I sw-swear. I know this is going to happen to you too, I’ll look at you and how no idea how important you are to me,” River pulled Helen by the collar and kissed her fiercely. Helen could taste her tears on her tongue long after she pulled away.

“I’m sorry; I’m so, so sorry,” River clung to Helen as a fresh flood of tears pooled in her eyes.

 

 _They met once more, for River at least; time is a loop and a lover of cruel irony._

Helen was frustrated, irritable and angry; not the best time for River to prance into a conference call with the other heads of house. Epically not in that dress; slinky and eye catching, and _amazing_ shoes that she would have normally loved, but right that second they just infuriated Helen. She managed to keep her emotions under wrap until the meeting finished and the monitors had turned off before she snapped. She rounded on River, fury in her eyes.

“You can’t just keep swanning in and out of my life like this; in and out as you please! It isn’t fair!” she shouted before River had a chance to explain the occasion.

“Well I’m sorry if I thought a surprise would a nice thing to do on our anniversary!” River shot back, hurt and anger obvious in her eyes.

“Our anna…what?” Helen stumbled on her thoughts as River’s words caught up to her.

“It’s our anniversary; thirty years today; for both of us. It’s so strange how even with conflicting time lines; we met each other for the first time on the same date. And those are quite big years, so I thought we could go out and have dinner.”

“Oh, god; I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise…I just. Sorry,” Helen hung her head to avoid seeing the hurt in River’s eyes.

“Don’t worry; I know this type of relationship is hard to deal with sometimes,” gentle soothing as she raised Helen’s chin with a finger.

“I’m sorry,” Helen whispered, blinking back tears and feeling dreadful.

“It’s alright; I forgive you. And I have some brilliant news to tell you too; about an expedition I’ve been asked to lead to The Library. Yes, a big ‘The’. It’s a whole planet of books. I thought you’d be interested,” answering Helen’s query before she voiced it. Helen smiled and ducked her head; River could always read her so well. River turned Helen’s face to hers again.

“But first, where’s my kiss?”

 

 _They end as they began; wine and shots and an envelope sealed with a kiss._

Helen bought a tiny little cottage in the French country side; a sleepy town she’d never heard of where the height of excitement revolved around the grain harvest. She liked it there, in that cosy house: no demands, no responsibilities and no one constantly looking to her for answers. She enjoyed this life as much as she missed her old one, the one she was waiting to live again.

She was drinking in the local café when a pair of legs and a mess of blonde curls walked in the door and every eye in the room turned to stare. River walked up to the bar, lent against the wood and ordered a glass of the local red. Helen smiled as she walked up to her side; it’s been so long since she’s seen someone she knew, let alone someone she could actually talk to.

“Make that a bottle,” Helen nods to the barman as she flashes a smile at River. “Hello, Sweetie.”

River throws her head back as she laughs and turns to Helen as she grabs their glasses and wine off the counter. “Normally I’m the one who says that; it’s quite nice to hear to from someone else.”

“I aim to please. Shall we?”

They talk as they plough through the first two bottles as the rest of the town sneaks glances at these two strange, but fascinating, women. The café closes as they finish their third bottle and they vaguely stumble back to Helen’s house on the outskirts of the town.  
Stories are shared but neither one asks for an envelope count. River trills Helen with a story of something as Helen tried to find the light for the cellar. The remnants of their next bottle stain the carpet after Helen launches herself at River, ferocious and desperate. She returns the kiss with the same intensity and pushes Helen down onto the couch.

 _Helen realised later that her end had been the beginning._

She opens her eyes to a smug smile hidden behind those blond curls Helen loved so much.

“Well, I was certainly not expecting that when I made a side trip to Earth. I must say, it was a lovely experience.”

“You didn’t come to see me?” confusion and disappointment inflecting Helen’s voice.

“No, sweetie. Should I have?” River sounded so _young. Why didn’t I notice that last night?!_

“You don’t know who I am, do you?” Helen tried very hard not to be offended as the facts snapped into place. “This is your first time.” It was a statement, not a question.

“You’re a time traveller,” River was just as good at deductive statements. “You’re from my future, aren’t you?”

“Yes. We meet…” River cut off Helen with a finger to the lips.

“Spoilers sweetie; you can’t tell me about that. How did we keep score?” River was all business now, seemingly forgetting she was still naked as a nipple peeped out from the sheets.

“Envelopes and notes, always sealed with a kiss,” Helen smiled at the notion, regardless of the slightly heartbroken feeling in her chest. “But I don’t have them anymore; they exist in earth’s future but my past.”

“But you can’t go and get them?” River’s eyebrows raised in confusion. “You smell like time, although it’s quite faint and a little bit… _torn._ I’m supposing you ripped a portal in time and space, rather then a nice entry and exit,” she looked for confirmation.

“Well, I followed the man who actually made the rift. But yes. See there was this man, and don’t worry about spoilers,” stopping River before she could protest. “I never told you about this and you never asked; you just _knew_. I’m supposing it’s because of now,” Helen paused for a moment, before launching head first into what she knew was going to be a lengthy explanation of how she managed to get stuck a century outside of her time line. “Anyway, there was this man, back at Oxford; Adam Worth.”

 _They spent the entire day alternating between talking and making love._

They spent the morning exploring every room in Helen’s house. River learned the contours of Helen’s body until she knew it as well as her own. Helen took comfort in being with someone she knew and loved. They dressed and ate and walked around the town

They spoke of the memories they suspected were of one another before they met, confirming or denying. They found a grass field and lay under the shade of a hay bale. Helen answered questions River had never asked before and River revelled in feeling so comfortable with some she’d just met; no guns or running, just calm.

River spoke of her adventures with the Doctor and her parents, of her past; only leaving out the stories Helen had already heard. They watched as the sky went dark and made love under the stars. They laughed when they heard cows mooing in the next paddock in response to their cries and moans and walked back to Helen’s cottage hand in hand. They actually made it back to Helen’s bed this time and fell asleep wrapped up in one another and the scent of sex.

When Helen woke she was alone. A bundle of envelopes sat on her dresser next to a single, newly picked flower with an unopened envelope resting again the stem. She smelt the flower and opened the letter with a smile that quickly changed to uncontrollable sobbing that drenched her pillow.

 _Hello, Sweetie,_

 _I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye, but if you’re reading this then I’ve died and the Doctor has found my note for you. If he’s done this properly, then I just met you for the first time. If something happens to me, as it obviously has, then I wanted you to keep those memories of us alive. I remember you were stranded away from our letters when you were hiding from the world. That’s why I left without saying goodbye, I went to get them and gave them to the Old Girl for safe keeping, with instructions to make sure the Doctor got where he was meant to be when the time was right. You wouldn’t be getting this letter if I saw after you got back to your old life, and I’m so sorry to leave you stranded. I’m so, so sorry._

 _The Doctor should be in the living room. Go with him; I need you to know you’ll never be alone, and he can do that now I’m not here. Please, live for me now that I’m not._

 _I love you, never forget that,  
xx, River_


End file.
